What Now?
by Ol3and3r
Summary: Hermoine is trying to find her way after the end of the War. Who is she supposed to be now that she is no longer the brains of the Golden Trio? Angst/Romance -Rated M for possible themes in later chapters, just in case.
1. Ch 1 Intentional Mistakes

**_"I love you, too. In so many ways, but…"_**

That scene just kept playing over and over in your mind. It is suppose to be just three little words, not three little words paired with exemptions. In so many ways, my arse—you either do or don't.

He had left after that at some point. After going on and on with apologies and explanations, but you hadn't been listening. No, it all ended with that but. It was not working for him, anymore—He needed someone that was more like him, someone that was into Quidditch, and maybe even pure-blooded. That you did remember, him running off at the mouth as usual and actually saying that he wanted someone with a more common heritage. Seriously—Did he think you, of all people, would not understand what that meant. Your IQ was possibly double his.

"Bartender! Another firewhisky down here-"

The bartender raised his eyebrows at you, but your scowl encouraged him to get you the drink anyway. You had no idea how many drinks you had consumed already, but were going to trying to drink that memory away.

Part of you wanted to be angry, but you were just too heartbroken. Things were supposed to get easier and better after Harry killed Voldemort, but you saw no change—except now, no one really had any direction. Harry was going crazy, you half expected every letter or call to be notification that he had killed himself. He had ruined things with Gin by 'accidently' sleeping with Cho Chang. Gin brought your mind back to Ron and you downed your drink swiftly trying to push the thoughts of him away.

"Another drink for the lady," a semi-familiar voice called from your side.

Not really wanting to move, but curious about this drinking ordering companion, you turned to come face to face with an infamous smirk. A sigh rushed from you, of all people why did it have to be him to see you like this.

Despite the whole deal with his father, Malfoy had managed to not only receive no punishment, but retain all his family's wealth and assume his father's position in the Ministry. On top of all that, apparently he had discovered some amazing potion that was making him tons. His good fortune sickened you, or perhaps all that firewhisky was catching up with you.

"Get the hell away from me, Malfoy," the words forced their way through your clinched teeth as you swung back around towards the bar. The bartender placed another drink down and scooped up a couple of your empty glasses. Without hesitation, you took the shot and motioned for another.

"Oh, come now, Granger, are last names really necessary?" Your mind screamed absolutely, but your mouth did not seem interested in forming any words. So, in silence, you sat scowling down the bar feeding your bitterness with thoughts of Ron's little speech. Malfoy seemed to be abnormally close to you, but you ignored it. Then, a hand was sliding up your bare leg getting dangerously close to the hem of your miniskirt. You had opted for the most exposing outfit you owned for this night; if Ron loved you in a few ways, surely you could find someone that would love you in a few others.

The hand disappeared but not before grazing against your inner thighs, sending a shiver down your spine. Closing your eyes, you longed for another touch, blonde hair brushed against your cheek as he whispered, "Come on, we both know why we came here tonight. Let's just leave and go somewhere more comfortable." The feeling of his breath on your neck was more intoxicating than any of the drinks you had that evening; combined with his scent, you would not have denied the boy anything.

Dear Merlin, you must be drunk! Malfoy would never get that close to you, much less say something like that to you—It was stupid to even imagine such a thing.

Opening your eyes, you turned to face a person you have hated for so long and put on your best smile and nod. Why are you nodding?! Is he really leading you out of the pub, your hand grasp in his?

Somewhere in your mind, you keep screaming the name Ron, but that's over now and suddenly for some reason, you do not really mind.

* * *

_**I know this was short, but I wanted to throw the idea out there and see if anyone is interested in reading this.**_

_**Please review. Thanks 3 Ash**_


	2. Ch 2 Thrice Denied

Walking out of the pub, cold air rushes over you bringing you back to your senses

Walking out of the pub, cold air rushes over you bringing you back to your senses. Jerking your hand out of the pale grasp of Draco Malfoy's, you turn and break out into a run. Tears are once again streaming down your face. Why did things have to turn out this way?! Why couldn't he just love you the way you needed to be loved?

Slowing to a walk, you try to gain a grasp of your surroundings. Thankfully, the blonde Slytherin is nowhere in sight, but neither is anything else you recognize. A feeling of nausea washes over you; those fire whiskies are not wasting any time catching up to you. Slumping down to the sidewalk, you extend your wand arm to hail the Knight Bus. Of course, as always, it is there before you can even drop your arm. A part of you still expects to see Stan Shunpike greet you, but like so many others, he will never greet you or anyone again. Instead a short stumpy woman beckons you aboard and gestures to a bed, all the while staying as far away from you as possible—It must be obvious that you've drank yourself ill. Slipping into an empty bed, you clinch your eyes tight trying to avoid the horrible sickness rising in you as the bus jerks back to life.

At this point, you really were not capable of comprehending much anything, so even when the lady asked numerous times where it was you were going, you still couldn't seem to make a response.

"The Leaky Cauldron, then?" At that, you managed a nod—your eyes still closed and your breathing controlled.

Your life was completely falling apart. Seeking comfort in the bottle, it seemed to only make it worse. You had wanted so much more than just a physical relationship with Ron, but that was all he had to give, at least to you. Thoughts of Ron brought about feelings of guilt now; you feel so dirty thinking of his hands on your skin of how you made love to him—giving him your very soul. It was just pleasure for him, never anything more than a purely physical relationship with a close friend—

Sleep came fitfully, mostly because of your mental and physical state and partly due to the less than smooth ride of the Knight bus—But it came all the same, until the conductor lady shook you awake and off the bus quicker than you knew you could move. Stumbling into the inn, you nodded to Tom and almost ran out when noticing a head of red hair slump over the bar. With as much mental quickness as possible in your drunken state, you realize that the Weasley at the bar is Gin. Taking the seat next to her, Tom offers you some Pepper-Up potion and some frightening looking soup of which you decline the latter.

Ginny finally turned to look at you; her eyes reflected your pain. Your thoughts mirrored one another's—why's, could have been's…So many questions… She needed to rest, possibly even more than you did.

With a second nod to Tom, you pulled your weary friend into the fireplace and floo'd the two of you to your apartment. It still amazed you the effect those potions could have on you. Even though you would bottom back out, you felt a world better while on the high.

"I almost slept with Malfoy." You both blurt out as you stumble out of the fireplace. It seemed practice flooing did nothing for either of your gracefulness.

"What?!" It seemed you were both given a script with the same lines and timing. A small laugh escaped your lips as you scrutinized the redhead in front of you.

"I'll start," she said. To which, you just nodded. It seemed you were doing a lot of that tonight.

"I was at Nuit Blanche that new bar, ya know the one named and modeled after the French festival. I was pounding drinks; just trying to get away from thoughts of Harry. Luna went along with me, but of course floated off earlier in the evening. Draco was there, buying drinks for some bimbo. I didn't know her—looked like a Beauxbaton girl, you know the type. Anyway, she passed out in one of the booths there, obviously foiling Draco's evening plans. I was already very drunk and he was not near sober either. I was dancing out of the middle of the floor when he slid up next me. Merlin, did he smell good and the way his body was moving against mine. I can't believe I didn't strip right there. He apparated me right off the dance floor into Malfoy Manor; before I knew what was happening, he was kissing me and our robes were on the floor. Then as I was laying there on those silver satin sheets, I just couldn't do it. He looked so good, but I felt like I still belonged to Harry."

"Wow, Gin—wow… My encounter pales to that. I left him in the middle of the street outside a pub." At that a deep, full laugh poured for the girl across from you.

"He must feel horrible. Left by three girls in one night!" You couldn't help but grin at Gin's comment. It was true though, poor boy—you weren't sure he had ever been told no, much less three times in one night.

It felt good to smile—and even better to know that you still could.

_Thanks for reading—Hope you enjoyed it._

_3 ash_


	3. Ch 3 Yours for the Cuddling

"Draco must feel horrible

"_Draco must feel horrible. Left by three girls in one night!" You couldn't help but grin at Gin's comment. It was true though, poor boy—you weren't sure he had ever been told no, much less three times in one night. _

_It felt good to smile—and even better to know that you still could. _

You both had kind of drifted into a comfortable silence after laughing at Draco's misfortune. There was a lot for both of you to think about, but Gin never was one for silence and out of the blue asked:

"Do you think I will be loved?"

The question really baffled you. How could she even ask such a thing? Gin constantly amazed you. The way her smile could light up a room, the way she could be fierce without knowing it, her determination and loyalty…Everything about her really. Your silence must have re-affirmed her fears, because she broke into tears.

"Oh, Gin-don't cry. I'm sorry, I was just so shocked you would even ask that. Of course, you will. You know that. All those boys were always chasing after you back at Hogwarts, and I'm sure plenty are still trying." Pulling her into a hug, you ran you hand down through her hair. Her scent flooded over you all of a sudden; the effect was so startling, you had to stop breathing for a moment.

Ginny nestled closer into the hug, burrowing her head into your neck, resting against your shoulder—obviously completely unaware of the effect she was having on you. Trying to calm yourself, you took a deep inhale, only to be overwhelmed by her again. How had you never noticed this? Delightful was inadequate to describe the scent—it was subtle, fresh, and indescribably sexy. You were suddenly very aware of the girl snuggling up in your arms. The way her breath felt on your bare skin, the pressure of her chest against your own, the pale perfection of her skin—your eyes took her in as best you could. A hunger filled your gaze as your vision trailed up her long legs; it was quite a relief that she could not see your face at the moment, because it would be very obvious what was on your mind.

Trying to push the thoughts of Ginny upstairs in your bed out of your mind, you offered her a drink.

"Nah, thanks though, Mione. I think I've had my fair share of drinks for this evening." Continuing that statement, she rose and said, "I think it is about time for me to try to sleep this off. Would you mind if I stayed here? I could use a cuddle partner tonight…I just don't want to be lonely, do you mind?"

Joy and fear filled you. Your mind was screaming to send her home, but your body would not give up the feeling of her body against yours all night.

"Of course, you can stay, Gin—You don't even have to ask. I'm yours for the cuddling."

A delicious giggle escaped her grinning lips at that. Oh how you needed to kiss those lips. Desire threatened to try and overwhelm you again as your eyes slipped down from her lips to the cleavage peeking out of her not-so-modest top. She had certainly developed well over the last few years.

Ginny didn't seem to notice your gaze and skipped up the stairs to prepare for bed. Excusing yourself for a moment, you drifted into the kitchen completely unaware of anything but the girl upstairs in your bed.

Until the thought hit you, you were defiantly straight. You had never even kissed a girl. This wasn't real desire. No, obviously, it simply your desire for Ron manifesting itself. Ginny resembles her brother—both redhead, pale skin, freckles. Obviously that is all this is—just the result of a ton of confusion, hurt, longing, and alcohol. You would never fancy a girl, much less the sister of your long time love. That would be absurd and you were Hermione Granger. You did not do absurd; you were logical, predictable, and dependable—and that was okay, right?

Ron obviously did not think so. Alone again, thoughts of him swept over you with full force.

_Fire lit up the night sky, outside the Burrow. Ginny, Harry, and George were playing with some new adaptation of muggle fireworks George had cooked up. They really were lovely. Laying in the grass, next to Ron, everything felt like it could be okay. You had made it through; it was all over now. _

"_**Hermione—"**_

_Turning to meet Ron's gaze, you couldn't help but smile. It wasn't too long ago he had asked you to be his girlfriend and the thought of being a couple still brought a smile to your face._

"_Yes, Ron?"_

"_**Well… **_

…

…

…

_**What I'm trying to say…"**_

"_Are you okay?"_

"_**Iloveyou."**_

_It took a bit of time for you to process those three little words. Your eyes widen bigger than you knew was possible. _

"_Oh, Ron, I love you, too."_

_Then he kissed you, with such passion, in that moment, you knew that everything was right in the world._

Shaking off the memory of that first "I love you," you tried to stop the tears that were now flowing freely down your face. Why did he ever say it? Bastard.

_**Thanks for reading—Review if you don't mind. Hope you are enjoying the story. **_

_**Ash**_


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